


Wicked Game

by AchillesLament (11Mydesign11), You_Are_As_Alone_As_I_Am



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: #ItsStillBeautiful Fest, Anal Sex, Banter, Dark Will Graham, Falling In Love, Hannibal and Will do not die, Kissing, M/M, Post-Fall (Hannibal), Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 16:11:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11855121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/11Mydesign11/pseuds/AchillesLament, https://archiveofourown.org/users/You_Are_As_Alone_As_I_Am/pseuds/You_Are_As_Alone_As_I_Am
Summary: Will is faced with confronting the changes he has undergone in the aftermath of the brutal slaughter of the Great Red Dragon. The consummation that occurred on the bluffs with Hannibal, and his subsequent survival, has forced him to face both what he is and what he has become. No longer able to run away from the consequences, will his embrace his radiance or collapse into denial?





	Wicked Game

  
He had not remembered anything once he’d laid his head to rest on Hannibal’s chest. He’d closed his eyes and waded into the quiet of the stream, his mind not registering the weightlessness, the sinking sensation or the lightness of his mind. Finally free. Free of everyone, of the constant onslaught of energy, of the converging, conflicting, ever-changing influences at endless war within his fevered mind. Free of Jack, of himself, and of Hannibal. Can’t live with him, can’t live without him, and stepping off the edge of the precipice, he’d made his choice to embrace death.

Will’s next conscious thought was dim confusion. Looming in his vision, he saw golden, incandescent light, and a shadow moving over him. A face, a form he couldn’t make out at first, until the moment he finally did.

It was, of course, Hannibal.

Taking careful breaths, blue eyes focusing slowly, he found his voice. “So, I’m dead, and you’re still here?” Will quipped dryly.

Hannibal watched the younger man closely, observing every inhale, each shuddering exhale, the flutter of his lashes, his smooth pink tongue as it darted out to lick his lips, the calm as it seemed to wash over him in metered waves. It rolled like an ebb and tide, with each of Hannibal's own breaths, as though Will was absorbing his own calm, as though they were transforming into a symbiotic creature.

"In this fantasy, if you are dead, then it is safe to assume that I would likewise find myself in the same predicament," Hannibal chuckled and smoothed out his suit coat, placing his hands into his pockets. "However, we are both very much alive."

Taking a moment to purse his lips and step a few paces closer, Hannibal continued. "I cannot help but wonder, Will, why did you do it? Do you find yourself feeling relieved that we are still here, or disappointed? Death often whispers to us, offering the promise of its sweet peace, peace that perhaps life can provide no longer. Did it whisper to you, enticing you with words of salvation?"

Hannibal’s voice echoed in Will’s drifting conscious as his mind faded to black again.

***

They sat at the long dinner table, Bedelia taking stuttering, drug-dimmed breaths, heavily lidded eyes falling as she remained barely conscious. The two men sat on either side of her, dining on a beautifully prepared, embellished dish of meat displayed in the center of the table.

Hannibal tilted his head a mere fraction, eyes narrowed and full of mirth as he looked from the fine meal he had made, over to Bedelia. "With the medicine I have administered, I must insist you eat your dinner. More than that, we wouldn't want to be discourteous, would we?" The good doctor offered her the faintest hint of a smile just before taking his wine glass in hand, and raising it to take a slow, appreciative sip.

"It is a rare cut of meat; pit-roasted and marinated slowly, prepared on a bed of cane strips, and wrapped in crisp ti leaves," he explained, and with a lick of his lips, steeled his maroon gaze on Will to gauge his reaction.

“A rare cut, indeed. Finally, months of feeding me oysters pays off,” Bedelia slurred, struggling to lift the fork to her lips. With a resigned sigh, a sick expression crossed her face before she finally took a bite, chewing slowly, thoughtfully.

Will stared at her with a smirk, taking a much more enthusiastic forkful. “I did tell you meat’s back on the menu, didn’t I?” he asked, smiling before he took his bite.

Hannibal's face took on an expression of pride as he listened to Will's blatant sassiness with Doctor DuMaurier; such a cunning boy he was. After taking a bite, letting it wash over his tongue and swallowing, the cannibal sat his fork down. "Will, I do hope you know that this meal was thoughtfully prepared with you in mind. A tribute to your great becoming, and as such, it pleases me to see you enjoying the fruits of my labor."

“Well, I have to say,” Will began, after clearly, visibly enjoying the savory bite, “eating Bedelia is a hell of a lot more rewarding than having to listen to her drone on and on about being Blackbeard’s wife for hours.”

“At least I look better in this dress than you ever would,” the blonde said quietly, her words measured out slowly as though she were saying something of great importance. “And as much whiskey as you drink, I can’t imagine you’d taste as good, either.”

Will chuckled at that. “I can’t argue with you there. We’ll get many fine meals out of you, I’m sure. Besides, where we’re going, it won’t be convenient to travel with you,” Will commented snarkily, and took another forkful of food.

Hannibal remained quiet, calmly eating his food, savoring it as he listened to Will and Bedelia's amusing display of tit for tat. With a sip of his wine, he lowered the glass, pinching the stem between index finger and thumb. "I disagree, I do believe Will would be quite the delicacy," he finally said, cutting his eyes to the man, slowly licking the residual wine from his own lips.

The empath's cheeks heated at the statement and he looked down at his plate quickly. “Fortunately, you’ll never get to find out,” he said abruptly in Bedelia’s direction with an arch of his brow. He exhaled heavily through his nostrils, hoping to change the subject. “Hannibal, I presume you’ve given thought to our destination? You had three years, after all, locked away in your mind palace to fantasize about where you might go, should you ever find yourself outside the walls of that hospital again. We don’t have the luxury of lingering too much longer here.”

"Indeed we do not," Hannibal began, noting the rosy blush that washed over Will's skin. Delightful. "I have procured a villa off of the coast of Cuba. I am sure you will find the fishing to be acceptable there."

Will’s eyes locked onto Hannibal’s for the longest time since he’d regained consciousness. He was surprised the doctor would think of such a thing for him, and comforted, for a moment, by the idea of fishing again. Something so simple with an attainable goal, like repairing boat engines, working with his hands - he knew it would be good, even if the feeling were short-lived.

Hannibal took another purposeful sip of his wine, eyeing Will over the rim of the crystal, and set it down with a gentle clink. "I must ask, Will, how often did you find yourself debating over what it was I might be fantasizing about in that cell? Did it keep you awake at night, the images coiling beneath your pillow and invading your dreams?"

The curly-haired brunet averted his eyes again, almost demure this time at the suggestion of Hannibal’s words. “I’d love to tell you I didn’t think of you at all, but we’re well past those games now, aren’t we, Hannibal? You know exactly what kept me awake. You know what images haunted my dreams. A ‘unique and nightmarish charge of demonic sexuality’...hits close to home, don’t you think?” Will asked, brow arched once again.

"Mhm, yes, indeed," Hannibal rumbled, as he watched carefully, lust burning just beneath the surface. In the corner of his eyes, he could see Bedelia staring, though through the haze of her drug-induced state, and it amused him to no end. "No more games, only what is here and now. It hangs thickly in the air, does it not? Like a promise not yet spoken."

“Only the visions of your mind palace to keep you company.” The younger man took another leisurely bite, enjoying the food more now, almost entirely ignoring Bedelia as she sat barely awake at the end of the table. “You always planned to have me with you though, didn’t you? She said you were in love with me,” he finished, finally glancing over at the doctor, her glassy blue eyes dimmer now.

"I still do," Hannibal answered, stating it with no remorse or shame in his tone, "And yes, I am." He leaned forward, Bedelia not existing in this moment, only the two of them. "How does that make you feel? You surrendered so exquisitely on that bluff. Will you allow yourself to do so again?" The doctor finished his question with a victorious yet calculated bite of his meat, pulling the fork slowly from his mouth, curious in anticipation of Will’s response.

Will snorted, lips sealed in a thin line for now, exhaling heavily through flared nostrils. “I surrendered to the idea that death was my only answer, Hannibal. I still don’t know if I can accept what I am.” He glanced back up at the older man, eyes skating over his sharp cheekbones, his delicate, striking, almost feminine features so alluringly beautiful. He couldn’t deny his attraction, and there wasn’t any point to it anymore, but he still felt the resistance within him - refusal to surrender completely to the darkness of the beast that lay beneath his skin.

"And yet here you are, with me, at the table, enjoying our feast," Hannibal began, narrowed, glistening eyes watching Will observe. Naturally, he had anticipated the internal struggle on the empath’s part, and found it to be beautiful. The cannibal would have to make certain allowances in his own palate, use the shift to further assist the younger man with accepting his truest nature. "All I have ever done was show you a door, one that you could walk through, Will. You chose to pry it open and plant your feet across its threshold. Do you really feel as though you can reverse time and find yourself on the other side? Do you even want to?"

Will shook his head, a stray curl falling in his eyes. “I know we can’t go back. I can’t. Besides, what I want doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve changed too much...but so have you,” he added, taking another long, slow swig of wine, rolling the dark, rich fluid around in his mouth before swallowing.

Hannibal contemplated that, letting Will's words tumble around in the bone arena of his mind as he took the last savory bite of his meal. After chewing and swallowing, he nodded, maroon hues locked onto the lamb-turned-lion with laser like precision. "Yes, we have affected one another, too wound and entwined to become undone. An intricate labyrinth of our own making."

Will dared to look again into Hannibal’s eyes, almost as red as the wine in their glasses, red as the blood he could feel pulsing like a fever in his veins.

A sharp clattering sound cut through his reverie, coming from Bedelia's end of the table, and he tilted his head towards her with some annoyance. Setting his napkin on the edge of the table, he rose to walk over to her. Next to her heeled foot lay a small silver fork; Will knelt to pick it up. As he did, he felt her hit him on the back of the neck, and a dull, burning pinch settled over his skin. Will looked up at Bedelia with a smile at her brazenness; he could see thick rivulets of scarlet flowing down her pale wrist as she released him, and he gradually realized it was his own blood.

It made no difference though; within seconds, he’d taken the fork she had dropped, and pressed it deep into her carotid artery, great gobs of blood gushing rapidly from the wound like a dam being breached. Her blue eyes widened, her mouth opened in wordless shock as she gasped for air. He stood and staggered back to his seat, pulling the knife out of his shoulder and tossing it to the table.

“The instinct to help turned as quickly as that to the desire to crush, and so I finally help you out of your misery. Goodbye, Bedelia…” Will said, his tone somewhat cold and aloof, a slight detachment in his eyes.

Hannibal glanced at Bedelia, and watched the stream of crimson spill from her neck. It was quite the sight...perhaps he would sketch it later. For now though, he turned calmly, and looked at Will, an expression of love and adoration tinged with amusement spreading across his chiseled features. He would tend to Will's wound later, but at this moment, he was more awestruck and curious at how things might play out, so he opted not to speak, sipping his wine instead.

Will picked his own glass up again, ignoring the choked gurgling from the woman as she aspirated on her own fluids, slowly dying. “We’ve irrevocably changed each other, Hannibal. When I look in the mirror now, I don’t see myself. I see you. I still am not sure how I feel about that, Hannibal. I can do what must be done. I can acknowledge how the act itself makes me feel, but...I don’t know if I can fully accept becoming you, if that is what I am becoming,” he said quietly.

"Freeing yourself from me, and me, freeing myself from you, they're the same, as I told you once before," Hannibal reminded him, casting a glance to Bedelia with delight and then back to Will. "I have only wanted you to accept your nature, a nature that was present long before our paths crossed, Will. What you must realize is that the winds of change cannot blow freely unless a window has already been opened."

Will chuckled and drained the rest of his wine before setting it down and pushing his chair back to rise. “Someone threw a rock through my window, Hannibal, and the wind has been howling through ever since. I’m just holding on to whatever’s left in the room after the hurricane of you got done.” He sighed and rubbed his hands on his thighs, looking over at Bedelia’s now lifeless body slumped over the table.

Hannibal removed the napkin from his lap and took the last sip of his wine, a hand going over his vest as he rose regally from his chair. "Storms leave chaos, destruction, but also potential for rebirth, Will," he offered, a small charming smile playing on his full lips. "Will you seize the opportunity that has been set before you, here and now, with me?"

“I have little choice, Hannibal. I’m seizing what we have presently, yes. What are my options? If I stay here, I’m volunteering life in prison. No, I’m coming with you...I’m helping you. I’m as guilty as you are now, with as much to lose.”

Will began to clean up the mess, knowing they had little time remaining there before the FBI and Jack would inevitably look for them at Bedelia’s home. He knew they had to move quickly.

Hannibal responded with a pleased nod, and joined in assisting Will with the clean up, mending his wound- it was shallow, and not as bad as it first appeared after all - and the disposal of Bedelia's body.

Not long after that, the place had been cleaned of any evidence. Hannibal placed a hand on Will's arm and looked him in the eyes. "We should go. I have transportation ready and waiting for us, Will."

Will had changed into clothes suitable for their travels and packed up what they could, and after taking one last look around, followed Hannibal to his waiting vehicle.

***

This was where Will felt most at home - out on the open water, the cold, salty air biting at his skin, nothing but the light of the moon and a thousand tiny stars to guide him. They were headed out on a vessel Hannibal had secured. As it turned out, he’d been planning for this eventuality long before that fateful night in Wolf Trap when Will had announced he never wanted to see Hannibal again. As with everything, of course, Hannibal knew. Of course he would be prepared for this.

It would be about a week, by his estimations, before they’d get to their destination. Hannibal had announced Cuba would be where they were going, where he had procured a small villa off the coast of Cayo Romano.

Will was laying out on the deck, the mid afternoon sun warming his skin. Even in the few days they’d been out here, he’d already begun to tan, his pale skin getting increasingly ruddy and bronzed. It was warm, and he’d foregone a shirt, laying out in a pair of well-worn, grey boxer briefs.

Will fell asleep like that, and behind his eyes, his dreams were violent and troubled. They were often so, and on this occasion he found himself having a very familiar vision: the wendigo, as he straddled him and beat his face bloody. They were both nude, and as he blinked, the face of the beast changed to that of Hannibal. He looked up at him, almost smiling through blood-stained teeth; the space between them had shifted though, and Will felt himself aroused, the air charged with sexual energy. He’d closed both hands around Hannibal’s throat, strangling him, choking the life from his eyes, when he woke up. Jerking awake with a start, he was covered in sweat and too warm, the sun obstructing his sight, glaring painfully. He shielded his eyes and looked around to see Hannibal standing, looking down at him.

Will was breathtaking like this, then again, there wasn't one instance in which he was not. Hannibal stood there for a few minutes before he woke to witness his slumber. It wasn't meant to be perverse, but more done out of intrigue. Still, many trains of thought meant the good doctor did have one reserved for indulgent thinking. When the empath woke up, the cannibal moved to step in the way of the sun, only wearing a pair of loose black shorts. “Sleep well, Will? You did seem to be dreaming something quite complex,” he rasped, locking his lips. His lisp was more apparent when he was amused or aroused, even if he was able to prevent himself from growing erect at the sight. “I'd be more than happy to lend a therapeutic ear or perhaps a bit of friendly conversation on the matter…”

As blue eyes opened to the light, Will brought his hand up to shield his vision from the sun’s blinding rays just as the tall doctor stepped in front of him. His long shadow covered him, and the way he stood, Will couldn't help but see the outline of muscular thighs through the dark fabric of his shorts. The brunet rubbed his eyes and leaned on one elbow. He squinted up at Hannibal. “It was...complicated and intense. I was wrestling a...monster.”

“So I can see,” Hannibal grinned, just a faint thing, not missing the way Will was looking at him. He could only hope it was intentional. “This...monster, that you were wrestling with. Was it your own or a different entity entirely? Often our dreams are wish fulfillment, something we suppress during our waking lives, only to dare entertain behind our eyes as we sleep.”

Will ran a hand down his chest, over his belly - the smile Hannibal had left him with. Fingertips grazed over it before sliding down to scratch his legs. “A different entity, yes. Horned, black as coal. The Wendigo, as you know him. I’ve often seen him looming over you, Doctor Lecter.” He looked up with a brow quirked in suggestion.

Hannibal licked his lips, sniffing the air with a faint snarl of desire as he followed Will’s hand. He flicked his eyes back up, to meet sea blues and clasped his hands together. “Then it was me who you were grappling with,” he said, moving to sit next to the brunet, inhaling the scent of his sun and sea kissed skin. “Did you wish to kill me, Will? Or was it the struggle itself that drew you in?”

Will’s gaze flickered over Hannibal’s with amusement. “Well, I do always feel like an animal in your sights, being hunted, with you waiting for the slightest mistake to snare me in your trap. The beast’s face changed to yours, plain as day. And there was this,” he waved his hands between them. “This...whatever this is. Between us. It was amplified even more in my dream. I could hear your blood in my ears. Your heart beat, when I had my hands around his throat. I felt your eyes on me. Vividly.”

“But did you mean to kill me?” Hannibal asked again, never one to let things go, and he knew that simply because Will had him by the throat in the dream, it didn't necessarily mean that was his intent. He smoothed down his shorts, shifting a little and smiled, a faint twitching thing as he processed everything he'd been told thus far. It certainly has sexual connotations, which made the Doctor feel a certain sprig of zest. “Death is a release, it is the final climax that brings us that peace we seek. Erotic in its own way, to extinguish the life of someone we love or even hate. Powerful emotions, both of them.”

Will rolled his eyes and smirked, shifting uncomfortably, at first, at the Doctor’s words. “Par for the course that you’d immediately jump to the erotic connotations of the dream. I’m sure having me out here in the middle of the Atlantic, all alone, has your own dreams undoubtedly torturing you.” He laughed, as the idea gave him a little joy. His blue gaze wandered over the doctor’s form with amusement and interest, a slightly predatory glint of his own there.  
  
“You sound as though you've given my dreams some thought, Will,” Hannibal rasped, pleased at that bit of new information. Today truly was turning out to be quite the eye opener. Still, that laugh, those eyes, and the hint of darkness behind them, had the good Doctor positively elated. Of course it wasn't overly apparent. “Would you like that? To see me tortured by dreams of you that might never come true? Or is it the fact that we are out here, all alone on the cold rolling sea with so many words unspoken, that you wish to see become my undoing?”

“You’d be delighted to see me exhibit sadistic tendencies, wouldn’t you? Well, Doctor, I’m not so sure. What would it say about me if I did entertain those wishes? Would that make me a psychopath? Because I do sometimes comfort myself at the thought of you suffering the way you made me suffer? Forgiveness is one thing, forgetting is another.” There was nothing combative in Will’s tone - this was the back and forth they’d always done. A teasing dance, a folie a deux, and maybe, if Will was honest with himself, a bit of a courtship.

“So it is not the torture that bothers you but merely the perception of the act that is cause for hesitation,” Hannibal pointed out with a grin, crossing one leg over the other. He laced his fingers together, just at the knee, and canted his head towards Will once more. “You have not forgotten my sins against you, just as I have not. However, I am more curious as to just how you might wish to see me suffer.” There was, likewise, no hostility in Hannibal's tone, only intrigue and under that something knowing but concealed, for now.

Why is the idea of what Hannibal is proposing so arousing? Will asked himself with a wry smile. “Oh, I see you twisted in all kinds of ways. Usually restrained. I’m on top, in control. Your blood covers me, hot and sticky and usually very messy,” Will replied, sitting up and canting his head back. He swallowed long and slow, deliberate, watching the doctor with amusement.

A quiet growl slipped from Hannibal’s throat at that as he envisioned that precise scenario. He grinned then, leaning a bit closer with lust blown, dark eyes. Torture this was, he knew he was being teased intentionally, but it only added to the thrill. His blood thrummed in his ears, cock twitching as he licked his lips and took in Will’s scent. “You seek to force me into submission. Perhaps to regain that power you may feel you lost in the past,” he mused, his throat clicking audibly in a swallow. “It might prove to be a helpful and very useful exercise for us to...explore, later on. Wouldn't you agree?”

Will smirked. “Are you saying, doctor, you’d entertain allowing me to restrain you? You’d trust me like that?” He rubbed a hand over his inner thighs, very aware of what was in the air between them. Like many things with Will Graham though, he found himself enjoying this balance on the ledge of what if.

Hannibal followed Will’s every move with keen eyes, watching with delight and curiosity as the boat swayed calmly. It was fitting really, the serenity of the waters, the beauty, and yet underneath lay a world of uncertainty and danger--much like the one that belonged to Will and himself. “I do not fear death, Will, and if I were to meet my end prematurely, I would be honored for it to be by your cunning hand.”

“And while the thought clearly pervades my nightmares, I still find you too interesting to kill.” Will looked at Hannibal from beneath his thick lashes coyly. “You tried to kill me a few times yourself. Do you think about it anymore?”

“Occasionally I think of how it would be to savor you,” Hannibal answered, meeting Will’s eyes as sniffed a little snarl. He would prepare him to perfection, make the meal the grandest feast he'd ever prepared and relish each bite. “But the world is a far better place, with you in it. In short, no. I do not wish to kill you, at least not now nor in the foreseeable future.”

Will knew as much; it was an exercise in seeing how honest the doctor was willing to be with him now. A strange, fluttering warmth filled his belly at Hannibal’s mention, however, of savoring him. The suggestion cause Will’s mouth to suddenly go dry, a heat he could feel blooming cover his chest and up his cheeks. He shifted on the deck chair uncomfortably before rising. “I should...ahhh...get out of the sun before I start to look too much like a Will kebob to you,” he said dryly, lips quirking as he adjusted himself a bit before walking in front of him. He could feel his eyes on him, all over his body, and it made him blush even more as he went below deck.

Hannibal chuckled, certainly watching Will’s every move. His instinct was to follow him, right away and perhaps pin him to the nearest wall, but the good doctor was patient, had been for years already; why end that dance now when the music was still playing? He wouldn't. So he rose to his feet, strong muscles flexing as he went to procure a glass of wine from the kitchen.

***

The time had gone by more quickly than Will had anticipated. He’d passed the time fishing and sitting out on the deck, drinking whiskey, and reading, but mainly, trying to avoid the painfully close quarters of being so near the handsome doctor. It was not easy.

Finally settled on land, Hannibal was pleased. Cuba wasn't exactly where he'd prefer to be, but it wasn't horrendous. There were markets which he liked perusing, and the villa was decorated to his liking. The important thing was that he was with Will, and they were in the clear, for now. He did, however, wonder when they might discuss what happened on that bluff. Would the empath truly accept his nature?

Clad in a simple white tee shirt and loose, linen shorts, Will made his way to the cozy living room in the villa. The sun was setting on their first night in Cuba, and he was full after a delicious meal of fish Will had caught, made with a fresh ingrediants Hannibal had procured at the local farmer’s market. As he reclined on one of the plush sofas, Will found himself staring a little too long at the doctor.

Hannibal looked up from the book he'd been reading, and canted his head to the side just a tick as a small, charming smile played over his full lips. He smoothed out a hideous bermuda style shirt over khaki shorts, the ensemble intended to disguise more than anything else. "One has to wonder what is going on inside that imaginative mind of yours, Will,” be began with an arched, barely-there brow, setting his book next to him as one leg crossed over the other. The beard that was growing on his usually clean-shaven face was an irritant at best, but again, for now at least, he would have to withstand it. With a lick of his lips, he rubbed at it idly. “Or is it simply my attire that has earned such glorious attention from you?"

Will took a seat beside the doctor, turning to face him with an amused smirk. His beard had grown in thick and soft, though he’d taken to grooming it with a great deal more care than he ever had in the past, in contrast to the almost unkempt way Hannibal had grown out his own scruff in the past few days. He found himself curious to see how their appearances would play out in the coming weeks as they continued cultivating their disguises. “This certainly is a very interesting look, though I must say, you wear it well, Doctor Lecter,” he quipped, leaning back on the comfortable seat.

"Do you, then?" Hannibal asked with a smile, looking down almost shyly before raising his dark gaze back up to catch Will's anew. "I admit I am rather fond of the look you've chosen to adopt," he said, a bit deeper than intended, lust rolling off the tip of his tongue in delicious, accented waves. He could feel the heat radiating off of the empath's body, smell him more keenly with the proximity. The cannibal wanted to pounce and devour, taste the man next to him in ways that, up until now, he'd only imagined. Retaining his veneer of control, however, he refrained from physical touch, at least until he had more proof that Will was feeling the same. Still, he did angle his body towards the younger man, crossing a leg in his direction to convey his desires by way of subtle body language.

Of course Will knew exactly how the doctor felt. But now, nothing between them anymore, nothing separating them but whatever he wanted, it was all that much more real, and it made Will uneasy. He was never good with being completely open, and the way Hannibal stared made him feel even more exposed than he ever had before. “Are you?” he answered, reaching down to scratch his legs self-consciously. “Well it’s just more short-notice-criminal-on-the-run, not exactly FBI’s Most Wanted Haute Couture.”

Hannibal chuckled at that, and turned to grasp Will's jaw, thumb on his cheek, just as he had done long ago. His eyes all but sparkled as they went from the younger man's eyes to his lips and back again. The killer could sense the tension, practically taste it, and it simply made him all the hungrier. All they had was time, together and with a destiny of their own making. "You continue to surprise and enchant me, William, as no other has before, and since you have confessed to knowing as much, I cannot help but wonder what you will choose to do with the information you've been given. Will you allow yourself to delight, or will you let it go to waste?"

Hannibal’s touch felt like fire, and he found himself leaning into it without realizing. He gasped slightly, lashes fluttering against his cheeks. The way the doctor looked at him as though he were some delicacy to be devoured left him reeling and curious; strangely, in his own words, curious what would happen. Again, it seemed they were melding. “I could, perhaps, delight...a bit,” he whispered, opening his eyes again to let his gaze settle on Hannibal’s full lips.

"A sample, before deciding if you will partake in the feast," Hannibal murmured, leaning in closer still. The Lithuanian’s senses were alight, skin ablaze as he took in the ex-profiler at a proximity even more intimate than the one on that cliff. Licking his own lips, the doctor then just barely brushed them over Will's, hot breath whispering a promise as he added, "It would be impolite of me not to give you a taste, in hopes of tempting your palate."

Twisting his torso towards Hannibal more, Will inhaled sharply at the contact. He pressed forward further, hesitating for only a second before pressing his mouth over the doctor’s in return, lips parting slightly. A small sound was elicited at the kiss before he moved back to look at the older man, gazing into his eyes. “That was...nicer than I thought it would be,” he said quietly.

"You taste sweeter than the most exotic of fruits," Hannibal whispered, his heart racing in his chest from just the soft, gentle kiss he'd been given. He kept reverent eyes on Will's as he tried to steady his breath, licking his own lips again to capture that succulent, lingering flavor. The very sound that the younger man had made echoed in his ears like a symphony, his keen mind committing every bit of the experience to memory; a portrait painted and hung in the greatest hall of his vast palace. Oh, how the good doctor longed to savor Will anew, but instead, he maintained control, finishing his statement. "Your lips are supple and decadent, ripe for the taking."

Blue eyes met gold, and Will felt himself falling under Hannibal’s spell. It had happened so often at his dining table, in his office, avoiding the tractor beam of his gaze for fear he would be hypnotized. In the moments he allowed himself that indulgence, he’d seen himself reflected, the dark shadows and horns looming in the shadows. And now, he found he couldn’t look away, both men breathing the same breath as he felt the growing desire to taste more. Impulsively he leaned in, swiping the tip of his tongue over Hannibal’s bottom lip tentatively, his breath coming out shakily.

Hannibal's own breath hitched in his throat, his reserve of control beginning to wane and give way to a long ignored, feral hunger. Just the tentative feel of Will's tongue over his bottom lip was perfection; it sent him reeling, and he found he had to close his eyes for a moment to let the reality of what was unfolding wash over him. He reopened them quickly, his broad doctor's hand sliding from the younger man's jaw to the back of his head to keep him steady. Hannibal let out the faintest hint of a groan, lips parted and tongue darting out to massage it with Will's, hoping to gain entrance to the hot, inviting cavern of his mouth.

Will allowed it, his jaw slackening at the suggestion, and with an almost imperceptible gasp, he found himself wanting more. A tenuous lick quickly turned into a soft, needy moan as he braced one hand on Hannibal’s thigh, feeling himself lean closer, open up even more.  
The hand on his thigh and the moan spurred Hannibal on further, and he plunged his tongue inside. It wasn't overbearing, more simply seeking, testing the waters and exploring a part of the ex-agent that he'd only ever fantasized about before today. Still, he couldn't help the deep groan that slipped into Will's mouth as their tongues began to dance, his hand going atop the other's.  
  
Will pulled away with damp eyes, swollen lips and ragged gasps. “I...I don’t know...I don’t know what this is, what I’m feeling...what’s real, what I can trust anymore…” he stammered, eyes flitting up to Hannibal's with a look of uncertainty and fear.

Hannibal swallowed, with a quiet grunt at the loss of their kiss and nodded, his eyes half-lidded even still. "You can trust me, Will, and you know what it is that you're feeling, if only you would stop denying yourself the pleasure of it," he murmured, but made no move to press forward again, the hand that was on the back of Will's head snaking around to stroke his cheek. "However, I would not rush or pressure you...you know what it is that my heart longs for, whose name resounds inside the swell of my breast."

“Perhaps it's just that my choices have been largely taken from me at this point. If I leave you, I’ll be imprisoned. I could go on the run alone, but I’d have nothing, no one. I am inexorably tied to you, somehow. You are my darkness. But, without light, there is no darkness.” Will looked sadly into Hannibal’s eyes and sat back on the couch, not moving away, but not moving closer, either.

Hannibal, inwardly, felt his heart drop at the thought of Will feeling in such a way, but his face showed nothing but calm speculation. He moved his hands into his lap, resting them there as he leaned back and canted his head towards the other. "If light and darkness must coexist together, then it would stand to reason that I am not merely this darkness that you see. I am capable of love, and light, just as you are capable of darkness, and hatred. We are bound and tethered, and yet you still seek to slip away."

Will stood, uncomfortable by the implications, by the sudden intimacy of their kiss and Hannibal’s words. Could he be capable of authentic love? “I’m going to take a shower. I...I can’t do this right now, Hannibal,” he said, excusing himself and retreating to the bathroom.

***

As Will stood beneath the steamy water, he lathered up, closing his eyes and silently cursing himself. He was so lonely, and yet his isolation was self-inflicted. He was afraid but still, he had every reason not to trust the man on the other side of the door. Here was someone who’d lied to him, drugged him, gutted him, and tried to cut his head open. Yet at the same time, he'd also saved his life and shared the deepest parts of himself, confessed his love, sacrificed his freedom simply so he’d know where to find him - for three years. It was insane, elaborate; their relationship defied explanation and reason. And here Hannibal was, offering more, and he was yet again rejecting him. Will covered his face in shame, leaning against the tile in the tiny space, and finally shut off the water and stepped out to dry himself.

***  
Hannibal had resumed his reading, slipping his perfectly composed person suit back on, the beast caged for now. As he waited, he removed the hideous shirt he’d had on, broad chest exposed and cooling. He knew he could offer Will limitless pleasure, a life full of anything and everything he wanted, if only he would accept it. The Lithuanian knew, eventually, the lone wolf would give himself over. He had before, so beautifully, on the ever eroding bluff; it would just take a bit of time and patience to see him emerge again.

When Hannibal heard the water cease its stream, he kept his eyes trained on the page, focusing there instead of where he wanted to look.

Will sauntered back into the living room where Hannibal reclined, towel tied loosely around his waist, and walked to the bar to pour himself some whiskey. He leaned on the counter, staring as Hannibal read, watching the man avoid looking at him. A perverse part of him knew what he was doing, walking out there like this, body flushed from the heat of the shower, beads of water dripping down taut muscles. Part of him wanted the doctor to look, perhaps so he could turn away again. Was this just a game to him? Will slammed back the shot as Hannibal kept his focus firmly on whatever it was he was reading and poured himself another, wandering over to stand in front of the doctor.

Hannibal did watch from his periphery, amused inwardly at the show Will was putting on, much like how he'd done back in Baltimore during their sessions. Turning the page slowly, the doctor could feel the heat of the empath in front of him and yet his eyes stayed on the page, despite wanting to look up, badly. "I trust you had an enjoyable shower, Will?" he asked, his voice gravelly, yet somehow smooth, like a jar of overturned honey. Only then did he flick his gaze upward, briefly, fiery hues roving up the well-muscled brunet's form. He was stunning, perfectly edible, and it took all of the cannibal's control not to ravage him then and there.

Will could barely stand how cooly Hannibal surveyed him, almost dismissive when less than an hour before, he’d been kissing him with such a desperate fervor. But of course, he himself had turned him down, and the doctor, he was sure, was merely being respectful of that. “It was alright,” he said, swiveling his body and turning away. He finished his drink and set the empty glass on the bar. Still with his back to Hannibal, he finally looked at him, over his shoulder, beneath thick lashes. “I suppose we should discuss the sleeping arrangements. I can take the couch,” he said, one brow arched to gauge Hannibal’s reaction.

As Will's back had been turned, Hannibal took a moment to look him over, and a part of him wanted to open him, taste his heart, so that it would be with him forever. It would be bittersweet, but he knew that the world was a better place with Will Graham in it. "I would not have you sleeping on the couch, Will. Please, take the bed. Though, I would remind you, it is quite accommodating, more than suitable for two," he paused, licking his lips in a way that seemed contemplative. The villa was small, only one bedroom, and not something Hannibal would normally have bought, but still nice as well as discreet. "I promise I will behave myself, should we share our sleeping quarters." After that, he grinned, faintly, allowing himself to look into Will's eyes for just a moment before looking back down at the book on his lap.

Will’s heart hammered a little harder in his chest, though it was unclear to him if that was the alcohol, the visible, broad expanse of Hannibal’s bronzed, bare torso, or the suggestion of sleeping with the doctor. “I wouldn’t ask that of you. I guess it’s alright,” he sighed and rubbed his jaw. “We’re going to be travelling together for the foreseeable future. We have to get over this...whatever this is. As long as we keep things...normal...please,” he said, his eyes flickering over Hannibal as he waved his free hand between them. He walked over to his bag to fish out a pair of boxers and slide them on beneath the towel, his back still turned from the older man.

Hannibal inhaled, sharply, the scent of Will's musk just present under the smell of his specially formulated soaps. It was much better, taking him in this way, and the doctor found it to be entirely alluring. "What is normal to the spider, is chaos to the fly, Will, I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific on your version of normalcy," he said, closing his book once he'd put a place marker inside. "I do agree that we will be thrust together for quite some time."

His underwear now pulled up securely, Will dropped the towel, draping it over a rail to dry. He chuckled darkly. “You and your aphorisms. I’m sure in this case, I’m the fly.” The brunet eyed Hannibal curiously. “I’ll stay on my side of the bed, is what I mean.” He didn’t even know what he wanted. Scratch that. He did know. He always knew. He was simply afraid of his choice. Afraid of becoming him. But, maybe it was already too late for that particular regret.

Hannibal stood, regally and suddenly, walking over towards Will. He was always testing, always trying to peel back the layers to reveal what was hidden amongst their depths. Though they both knew what was there, the question was, would Will admit to it. "I'm curious Will, why do you think yourself the fly? It is more than merely a simple sleep arrangement, is it not?"

Will turned to face Hannibal, suddenly feeling too warm, too close. He licked his lips slowly and looked up at the tall doctor, the wave of temptation washing over him again, the way he’d felt pressed against him, how he had tasted. “Isn’t it, more? You just kissed me. I...kissed you back. It’s definitely more, Hannibal.” He looked into his eyes for a moment before looking down again, almost demurely.

"How does that make you feel, Will? Do you regret our kiss, the beautiful moment of connection that has been lingering beneath the surface for years? Will you let it fizzle into nothing out of your own fear?" Hannibal asked, stepping closer still, licking his lips as Will had. "You once stated that you knew yourself best when in my presence. What is true for you now, in this very moment?"

Will dared himself to gaze again into Hannibal’s amber eyes, not moving away, but stepping closer into his atmosphere, close enough to breathe the same air again. A longing ache throbbed in his loins, in his chest, in the deepest parts of his body, and he wondered if there was even any point to holding back any longer. “It’s still true, Hannibal, even now. I know myself, with you. I don’t...I don’t regret it, either.” Wil placed an unsteady hand on the older man’s chest as his eyes drifted once again to Hannibal’s full lips. Slowly, he leaned forward again, and brushed his own against them.

Hannibal didn't hesitate, and quickly wrapped both arms around Will, feeling the younger man's bare flesh under his hot palms. He gently walked him back against the wall, and kissed him deeply, not wasting anytime now, since consent had been given. He would should Will what it could be like, how powerful their coupling truly would be. The doctor snaked his tongue into the other's mouth, seeking with wet muscle, feasting all over again as his hips rolled eagerly.

The young man swooned into the kiss, his mouth opening to it more eagerly than the first time, knowing now exactly how good it felt, and realizing more openly how intensely he actually wanted this. His own tongue swirled around Hannibal's, almost fighting for dominance as his hands moved over the doctor’s bare chest.

"Will..." Hannibal murmured when taking a breath, and then plunged back in, all but swallowing him. He didn't fight back for dominance - he would surrender or take - all he knew was he wanted this, wanted Will. He'd longed to feel the cunning fisherman's hands on his body, and likewise, his on Will's. The older man kissed down his jaw and to his neck reverently, wanting to find every place that would elicit the most delightful sounds.

Will felt his body responding to Hannibal’s touch, his cock filled as he pressed himself flush against the taller man, wanting to leave no portion of skin untouched, growing more desperate as they kissed. Hannibal’s full lips brushed across the sensitive skin of his neck and Will arched into him with a needy groan, his hands exploring further down, pressing across his lower back and drawing him ever closer. “God, Hannibal, please…” he pled.

Hannibal growled his contentment at the begging. Will was just as pleasing in this capacity as he was in every other, not that the good doctor had thought otherwise. "The bedroom, a more suitable place, hm?" he rasped into Will's neck as sharp, dangerous teeth scraped over the carotid artery there. He wanted their first time to be perfect. The killer kept kissing the ex-agent, walking him backwards as he did to their sleeping quarters, hands on his hips to guide him.

Will moved with him, not wanting to disconnect their mouths from the decadence from which he feasted, years of wanting that had been denied, built up, and refused, now finally spilling between them. “Yes, bedroom,” he answered, not stopping until he felt his calves hit the back of the mattress. He paused, one hand on the doctor’s chest, and looked up at him, pressing him backwards just slightly, looking up through a hooded blue gaze. He hooked a finger under the waistband of his boxers and began to turn, one part coy, the other shy.

Hannibal watched with rapt, lust-filled attention, heart thudding faster. "Allow me," he offered, and then slipped his digits under the younger man's underwear, to pull them down. He all but marvelled at the wondrous sight that was Will Graham totally undressed. "Look at you, how beautiful you are, Will," he murmured, still in his shorts.

Will could feel warmth blossoming from his collarbone up his neck and cheeks to the tips of his ears at the praise, at the way Hannibal seemed to take him in, like a decadent dish to be devoured whole. He couldn't remember anyone in his life ever looking at him like that before. “I don’t know if beautiful would be the right word, Hannibal,” he murmured. Will reached for the doctor, his hands sliding to both sides of the older man’s hips and tugging down his boxers. “But...you…” he whispered, pulling them down over his generous erection, which stood straight out from his body.

"Ruggedly handsome, then," Hannibal smiled seductively, tone deep and accented. He stepped out of his boxers and grasped Will's face, kissing him with ferocious, reverent passion, laying him back down onto the bed as he crawled between his legs and bit down his jaw to his neck. He was drowning all over again, lost in the swirling sea that was Will Graham, and he never wanted the moment to end. He wanted to suspend it in time, so that they would enjoy this moment for eternity. "I could dine on you for hours, days, Will...have you any notion as to how long I've ached for this?"

Will stared up at the doctor through his lashes and licking his lips as he held himself up on muscled forearms. He watched as the doctor crawled over him and looked at him with a hunger that ignited something deep inside. “Take me then, Hannibal. I want you to. Please…” Will pulled himself further up the bed and let his thighs part, spreading his legs open invitingly. He had little idea how any of this actually would work, only that he wanted to feel Hannibal on him in any, and every, way he could.

That 'please' would be Hannibal's undoing, and he knew it - they both did. He took a moment to bask in the radiant beauty that was the man on the bed; such a treasure, and entirely for him. The doctor all but slithered back between the younger man's legs, kissing him again before moving down to nose along the thick nest of hair around his shaft, inhaling deeply. "You do not need to ask me twice, Will. I would love nothing more than to do that very thing," he murmured, and ran his slick tongue up to the tip, tasting the ex-agent's precome. It was just as delectable as he'd always imagined, and made his cock throb and leak onto the bed.

The younger man gasped when those full, soft, wet lips grazed him there, his flesh jerking up in response, bobbing against Hannibal’s mouth. He looked majestic, like a lion in the wild stalking his prey, and strangely that’s exactly what Will felt like. In this case, though, he was begging to be devoured, wanting it more than anything. His fingers ran through brown and silver strands of silken hair, staring at Hannibal with a measure of awe at his refined beauty.

Hannibal swallowed Will down, to the hilt, keeping his fierce eyes on sea-blues as he hollowed his cheeks, veiny hands trailing up and down the younger man's taut abdomen, over the scar he'd given him. It was his mark, a brand of his own making. The way Will touched him, showing his want and need for the older man, caused his heart to beat faster.

“Hannibal!” the empath cried out as he was consumed, sucked into the hot, wet cavern of his mouth. He braced his feet against the bottom of the bed, hips pushing up to gain more, fists clutching frantically at Hannibal’s hair, the sheets, anything he could reach. It was too much and not enough all at once.

Will was exquisite like this, and it took all of Hannibal's control not to come then and there, untouched. He brought his finger to gather some saliva at the corner of his swollen mouth, and continued to take the younger man down, lowering the finger to trace along the cleft of his ass, circling his rim to test his response.

The touch made Will shiver with equal parts fear and arousal; this was so utterly new, and yet every bit of skin Hannibal touched, every kiss and lick felt like heaven, pure pleasure unlike anything he’d felt before. Letting his legs fall even more lax, he gazed down at Hannibal with hooded eyes and whispered, “More…”

Hannibal grinned around Will's cock and popped off, reaching over to grab the glass vial of lubricant he'd thoughtfully procured and stocked. He slathered some onto his fingers, getting back between Will's muscular thighs and lifted them up and over his shoulders. The Doctor nosed over the curly haired man's hole, licking slow at first before he dove in and lapped with hungry abandon.

Will moaned loudly, a sound that he didn’t even recognize as his own voice- high pitched, needy, and wanton. It was as though he was being consumed alive, eaten, and that was something he knew Hannibal always wanted, though not like this. The younger man anticipated what was coming, what this was in preparation for, and felt he should be afraid, but all he felt so far was lust and want as he lifted his hips, his cock bobbing heavily against his belly, leaving a thick trail of precome dripping from the slit.

So delectable was his feast, so utterly and indescribably decadent, that Hannibal lost himself in the moment completely. He was so keenly in tune with each moan and twitch that came from Will's lips and body, that he knew he only wanted more, and wanted to possess it all for himself. A hand went around the younger man's leaking shaft, where the Lithuanian stroked deftly, tongue still laving, seeking and spearing the fisherman's entrance to work it open.

“Do it, Hannibal, please, let me..let me see what it feels like,” Will muttered in a rough whisper, his head thrown to the side against the mattress. He was desperate to know now, eager to feel Hannibal penetrate him, and even if it meant a little pain, he wanted it.

Hannibal groaned deeply at that and raised himself up, crawling back over Will's body. He responded by kissing him passionately, one hand slipping between them to slick up his cock. "I could deny you nothing, Will," he murmured and then positioned the tip over the younger man's twitching hole. It was surreal, a dream-like state, and if he wasn't truly awake, that would be how the doctor would wish to remain. With his burning, fiery gaze honed in on stormy blues, he pressed in, his lips curling into a snarl of pleasure as he made sure not to go in too quickly. "Tell me, if you need me to cease my actions, or slow..."

The younger man focused his gaze on Hannibal and slowed his breathing, relaxing his entire body. The sensation was burning, something trying to go somewhere it shouldn’t be, and it took several seconds for him to quell the momentary panic rising in his chest. “Slower...just a moment…” he whispered, trying to steady himself. He held fast to Hannibal’s shoulders, fingernails curling painfully into bronzed skin.

Hannibal paused, halfway inside of Will, and kissed him instead, feeding from his mouth before he trailed to his ear and his neck, hoping to distract him from the pain. "Whenever you're ready, Will; there is no need for haste. I would not wish to hurt you," he whispered, one arm bracing himself and the other threading through silky curls.

Gradually the pain subsided, and he pushed back against Hannibal in an effort to take more of him inside. “Okay...ohh…” the younger man moaned. As his body relaxed and opened, the strange sensation began to turn to something heavy and pleasurable, and he moved his hips, seeking more of it.

Hannibal finally seated himself to the hilt, and paused another moment, kissing each sound from Will's succulent lips. "You feel more phenomenal than I ever dreamed possible," he rasped and then started to build a gradual rhythm, grunting quietly as he was overtaken with the passion of their love making. "Ah, Will..."

Will pulled his legs up high and dragged Hannibal even closer, plundering his mouth greedily as relaxation began to melt into a sensation he’d never experienced before. He felt the doctor brushing against a place inside him that made him gasp and arch desperately, and he clawed up Hannibal’s back. “Hannibal, please, please….” he begged more loudly, sweat beading up and collecting in the hollow of his throat, dripping down his neck and chest.

A more feral look came over Hannibal's eyes, as he bit and licked at Will's lips and tongue. The doctor increased his speed and began pounding the younger man fervently, a sheen of sweat gathering over his skin as well. "So beautiful, so enchanting," he growled, his balls slapping wetly against the ex-agent's ass, arms wrapped underneath him as he kissed down to the hollow of the other's neck to taste the salty, sweet flavor of his perspiration. "Will, I could partake of you endlessly..."

Will’s hard, leaking cock slapped wetly against his abdomen under the repeated onslaught from Hannibal’s pounding, and he reached between his legs to begin to stroke himself. He wanted to close his eyes, felt overwhelmed and overstimulated from everything, the endless prickle of fire over every cell of his body lighting him from the inside out, yet he couldn’t bring himself to close off from the doctor. He stared into the other man’s blood red eyes as he felt himself nearing the edge with each battering thrust. “Oh Hannibal…”  
  
Hannibal gazed into Will's eyes, the beautiful pool of cerulean drawing him in and submerging him there. He grunted, and sat back on his knees, folding the younger man's legs back and pressed them to his chest as he got a more precise angle to help send him over the edge and find his release. Surgeon's fingers swept over pert nipples, as he tweaked them, sliding up and around Will’s throat. He didn't restrict air intake, but just placed a firm, sound grasp there, enough to feel his heart racing. "Come for me, William...find your pleasure's end so that I may join you there."

Broad palms and long fingers braced against his pulse served to bring Will back into his body just enough, exactly as much as he needed. It was always like this with Hannibal; he knew him so well, knew him better than he knew himself, knew exactly what Will needed in any given moment. It was this glimpse into darkness, his thumb pressing lightly over Will’s throbbing artery, the knowledge that with the slightest push further he could do more - but he wouldn’t. Like the pendulum of a clock, in sequential flashes, he felt the fullness of Hannibal’s cockhead brushing against him inside, then he locked eyes with this man who’d held his life in his hands so many times before, and his pleasure pulsed hard and fast over his belly between them, warm ribbons of white come through the silver fur covering Hannibal’s tanned chest and over Will’s own flat belly. He could hear himself growling, groaning and gasping out the doctor’s name like a wild animal, nails dug into his shoulders and breaking skin.

“Haaannibal….!!!”

The second that Will's come hit the air, the moment it splattered on and between them, Hannibal's nostrils flared, taking in his beloved not only by sight and sound, but also scent. It was divine, stunning and that, paired with the perfect vice-like embrace around his shaft was more than enough to pull the good doctor right along with him. Vision blurred, hips snapping, as large balls drew tight. Hannibal exploded, painting his artistry on the inner cavern of Will's body. The intimacy was striking, almost magical, and he bit down into the other's mouth, tasting each and every sound as he all but roared like a lion.

"Will, my remarkable, cunning, Will…!"

Will held fast to the older man, gripping him as he quaked through his orgasm, legs wrapped tight around his hips, heels hooked together to keep him close. He crashed their mouths together, feasting from his lips, wanting to eat every word from him, drink every breath. As he felt Hannibal’s hot seed fill his body, it was as though something he always knew would happen did happen. Everything prior had led to this moment; it had been their destiny since that first fateful meeting in Jack’s office.

Hannibal continued kissing Will like his life depended on it, and as if they stopped, this would end forever. He wove his fingers through silken curls as his cock softened, his chest heaving and pressing into the other man's with each sharp inhalation of breath. The experience would never be forgotten, and was etched in stone in his memory palace. "William...."

Will felt it in his chest, and knew that this ache was in fact love. So many emotions swirled in his head; the high of post-orgasmic pleasure, the intense bond that came with that, and the desire to stay here with Hannibal, to remain wrapped up in him forever. And yet, there was lingering fear in the shadows, in the recesses of his mind. He ignored it, and ran his fingers through the older man’s chest hair, closing his eyes and listening to his heart as it thundered, struggling to slow in their repose. “That was more amazing than I could've imagined, Hannibal,” he whispered, voice ragged from their activity.

"Our thoughts can lead us down various pathways, some correct, others not," Hannibal whispered back, pulling out gently, and rolled onto his side, facing Will. The doctor wanted to hear those words of love from the man next to him, but he didn't need them spoken to know of their existence. "And as you've just expressed, they can also blind us, concealing the pleasures that we are lacking as a whole. Nonetheless, I am pleased you found it as phenomenal as I did, Will."

Will rested his head on Hannibal’s chest and tried to at last let his mind relax, his body sated from their passion. “I just want to enjoy this for what it is right now, in this moment, Hannibal,” he muttered with a smirk. He opened his eyes again, looking into Hannibal’s again.

Hannibal looked back into Will's eyes, studying him, noting the different flecks of color, the gold around the pupils. Beautiful. "Of course, Will. Anything you feel you need," he said, quietly, his tone a deep rumbling sound as he wrapped his arm around the younger man. "We shall do exactly that."

***

Weeks passed, and the pair fell into somewhat of a routine, a domesticity that Hannibal had never experienced before now, not even with Bedelia in Italy. Cuba was nice, but it left a certain void in the Doctor. He needed to get his appetite back, but was uncertain if Will was truly accepting of his nature and ready to fully become what he knew he was.

A test, perhaps, Hannibal had decided, one morning when receiving word from Chiyoh that Agent Crawford was in Cuba looking for them.

"I am going to go to the market, Will, the one right by the docks, to procure some bread for our supper tonight," he said, putting on his cream colored hat and glasses. He knew that Jack would look for him there, as that market in particular held items that were specific to his tastes. "I should return in no more than an hour's time."

Will nodded, scratching at his densely soft, well-trimmed beard. “Alright Hannibal. An hour,” he repeated, and leaned in to kiss the older man on the lips. There was a warm earthiness in Hannibal’s taste and scent that Will had grown to find both comforting and irresistible.

Hannibal kissed Will back, deepening the contact briefly to leave him with something memorable. "You have my love, Will, I trust you know that," he said, finally confessing his feelings directly in a way he hadn't before now. Before Will could say anything, Hannibal tipped his hat, and left.

Strolling the market was something that Hannibal enjoyed, and he took his time, aware that he was being watched. Jack was alone, and the cannibal was pleased. He assessed that the Agent wanted to take him down himself.

The doctor walked out of the market, once a few minutes had passed, and went down an alley close by, listening to the quiet sound of shoes behind him, the smell of Jack's aftershave wafting through the passage to let him know without a doubt he was being followed.

"Hands up, Doctor Lecter," Hannibal heard, smiling to himself as he turned around to face the man himself. All their running had led to this.

"Hello, Jack," the killer said, putting his hands up and behind his head. He was surrendering all over again, but for an entirely different purpose.

***

When the hour had passed without any sign of Hannibal or communication from him, Will paced the house, looking at his watch in concern. He finally grabbed his hat and left, knowing in his gut something was definitely wrong.

***

Hannibal was bound to a chair, having been shot by Jack with a taser. The Agent didn’t trust the surrender, and had taken precautionary measures.

Honestly, Jack wasn't sure if he was going to hand Hannibal over to the authorities or simply kill him himself. Now that he had gotten the man into a chair and had him bound, he paced, mulling it over. "Where is Will Graham?" Jack asked Hannibal.

"I do not know," Hannibal said simply, to which Jack's reply was a solid punch in his jaw.

"You're covering for him, Hannibal. Where is he?!"

Hannibal didn't reply again, and instead smiled at his captor through blood-stained teeth.

***

Will had tracked Hannibal’s phone to a nearby hotel. He didn’t usually carry his gun anymore, but he wasn’t taking any chances. He watched from a distance as he spotted Crawford through an open window and made his way to the room, quietly working open the lock and slipping inside. Gun drawn, he walked in and trained it on his former boss.

“I’m right here, Jack.”

Hannibal looked up and canted his head, just as Jack turned around. His gun was out of reach, so he held his hands up. "Will, drop your weapon. We used to be friends. Doctor Lecter has you brainwashed. Come back with me, and we'll get you help."

Will laughed dryly. “I’m hardly brainwashed, Jack. You used me for what you wanted, you got your Dragon. But I’m afraid I can’t let you take Hannibal.” The younger man moved closer, taking in the doctor from his periphery and seeing some bruising and a few drops of blood on his face.

"We don't need to do this, Will," Jack said, his voice booming as he took a more defensive stance. "I should have killed Hannibal back in Italy, just like I should never have let you talk me into faking his escape. It's clear now what your intentions were."

Jack pulled a knife from his pocket quickly, preparing to end this once and for all, end Hannibal. He was ready to die, himself, to be with Bella again, but thought he could do one last thing for Will, and for society.

The sound of metal clicking echoed in the room as Will cocked his gun. A long silencer was clipped on the end of his Glock, something Hannibal had insisted on since Will had decided to carry it with him. A sudden, dark calm washed over him, a blanket of assured confidence that he hadn't felt since that night with The Dragon. It was as though he could see everything that would happen tonight unfolding before him, behind his own eyes, and he knew what would need to happen. Even as his voice left his throat, it sounded more like Hannibal’s to his own ears. “This ends now, Jack. Drop the knife.”  
  
Jack saw Hannibal's eyes flit between Will and the knife he brandished, and he knew it was do or die. He couldn't allow this to continue, and if it cost him his life, then so be it. The big man raised his knife and turned on his heel, the reflection from the blade shining onto Hannibal's face as the agent prepared to lunge on the cannibal.

Five shots were quickly and quietly emptied from Will’s weapon into Jack, aimed with precision into his head. It seemed to happen in slow motion, curtains falling around the edges of his vision as the only thing that mattered to the empath in that moment was protecting Hannibal at all costs. The big man landed heavily on the floor, and Will kept his gun trained on him as he moved swiftly closer and kicked away the knife that had fallen from his hands.

Hannibal watched with awe as Will made his choice. He’d chosen him, and it was beautiful and validating. "I was hoping you would come," he said, speaking finally, sniffing once as he waited to be freed. He was grateful, and brimming with eros and adoration. However, being who he was-- ever the intrusive one --he had one thing to ask his beloved, "I wonder, did you use a gun because Uncle Jack was not worthy of the intimacy, or was it merely out of convenience?"

“Both,” Will answered as he set his weapon down, checking the man’s pulse and finding him to be dead. He picked up the knife and released Hannibal’s bonds. He looked up at the doctor. “Jack robbed me of so much, and now just as I’ve joined to you and accepted who I am, he almost took you from me. Hannibal...I didn’t even hesitate. Does this make me a killer now? Fully? Completely? I should feel something aside from relief, but I don’t.” He tucked the knife into his pocket and began to collect items from the room to clean the scene of evidence.

Hannibal rose regally from the chair, rubbing his wrists and straightening out his attire. He contemplated Will's query and licked his lips slowly as he looked from the late Jack Crawford back to his beloved. "If I were to say yes, it does, how would that make you feel, Will? Would it continue to bring you relief, confirm it, or send you tumbling down a well of regret?"

Will chuckled at Hannibal’s choice of words, as always, nothing was ever simply put. “It doesn’t matter anymore. You’re right. I know who I am. But you need to know, I’ll never simply kill for the sake of it. Everything has to have a reason for me. I killed Jack to save your life because,” he paused and stood, looking into the taller man’s eyes, his own damp with emotion. “I love you, Hannibal.”

"You kill righteously, only slaughtering those that have become tainted, no longer serving their purpose as society thinks they should," Hannibal nodded. Touched deeply by what Will had just said, he stepped close and cupped his jaw, leaning into kiss him languidly. No games, only raw emotion. When he pulled away, he smiled, "I love you, William, and I am grateful you came to my aid. I will have to consider a way to repay you, soon."

“We are, as you said, conjoined now, Hannibal. There’s no repayment necessary. If you were harmed, I would be harmed. We’re a team, in this, whatever this is, together. Right?” Will licked his lips, tasting Hannibal there without shame, and gave a dark smile to the doctor, his eyes cast in shadows from the lighting in the room that made him look remarkably sinister. Nothing at all like the timid, nervous, uncertain lamb that had wandered into Crawford’s office all those years ago when they’d first met.

The lamb had become a _lion_.

 

**Author's Note:**

> *Note- The video isn't ours, but merely inspired us. :-)


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